


I Can't Fix You

by Fufflebumps (Pippip_hurray)



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aftercare, Age Difference, Aged-Up Character(s), Begging, Deceit, Dom - Freeform, Dominance, Edging, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Gabribug, Gabrinette - Freeform, Gentle Dom, Gentleness, Her smile, Ladymoth, Lemon, Male Dominant, Marimoth, Object Penetration, Older Man/Younger Woman, Older man, Oneshot, Orgasm Delay/Denial, PWP, Pet Names, Pleading, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Praise, Prompt Fill, Reader Beware, Sex, Sex Toys, Smut, Submission, Tenuous plot, Vaginal Fingering, adultery?, age gap, am i missing something?, but not a lovey ending, female submissive, just an excuse for porn, no namecalling, panty crotch pulled to the side, pr0n, sir, sub, this is not romantic peeps, use of the word Cunt as an anatomical reference, wordy sentences, younger woman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-06 21:34:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12826569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pippip_hurray/pseuds/Fufflebumps
Summary: She has his missing wife's smile and he's going to make her give him all of them before he's finished with her.





	I Can't Fix You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sinfulpapillon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sinfulpapillon/gifts).



> This was supposed to be angst, but Behold! 3000 words of smut!  
>  **STOP** In case you missed it in the tags and in the rating and in knowing who the characters are, this fic contains an explicit, sexual relationship in a pairing of two adults with a significant age difference (about 20+ years) and utilizing a kink which some may find uncomfortable and squicking/triggering. If this applies to you, please click the back button and go find a piece [of porn] that really gets your car racing for O-town.
> 
> Unbeta'd.

“I can't fix you, Hawkmoth” she said, so softly, cupping his cheek with her outstretched hand.

He turned his face into her touch, grasping her hand with his. “My dear, no one can fix another person.” He pressed his lips gently to her palm before clasping it in both of his hands and holding it to his chest. “I'm not asking you to fix me. I'm only asking for your help. Will you help me? Please, Marinette?”

He continued to hold her hand over his heart with one hand as he brought the other to her cheek to caress it with his knuckles and down her neck, finally sliding his fingers back and up her nape and into her hair. She tilted her head back into his touch. Bluebell eyes stared into baby blue. “How?” she whispered.

“Will you smile for me? I miss her smile so much, and you have her smile. I just want to see it again.” She did. It was a sad smile, but it was so beautiful. He bent his face to hers and kissed the corner of that smile, paying tender tribute to it. “Thank you. May I make you smile some more?” He asked, taking her lips in his and gripping her hair in his fingers, stepping closer until there was only a hairsbreadth between them. She moaned softly into his mouth.

He let go of her hand on his chest and wrapped his arm around her waist, pressing her to him and nudging his knee between her legs until she was leaning against him, the juncture of her legs pressed against his thigh. His tongue entreated entry at her lips, tentatively tasting. Breathing more heavily, he could feel her heart beating quickening. She opened her mouth and stroked her tongue along his, making him groan past her quiet pants. His thigh was growing warm where she leaned and he shifted slightly. She let out a squeak. He would have to move this if he was going to accomplish his goal for the night.

Hawkmoth broke the kiss and nuzzled her nose. She smiled and he kissed her lightly for it. Every time she smiled, he was going to kiss her. He was going revel in the facsimile and soon he would have the real thing. “Marinette, darling, I want you to keep smiling for me.” He took his hand from her hair, grazing the back of his hand over her collar and barely brushing over her breast. She inhaled sharply but hummed with another light smile. He pressed his lips the other corner of her mouth, to which she smiled widely and giggled. He kissed her as he gently cupped her breast over her nightshirt. She let out another hum of approval.

“Th-the bed, Hawkmoth,” she gasped when he moved his open palm over her nipple. “P-please.”

“Mm, you remembered. Good girl.” He lifted her against him , bracing an arm under her bottom when she wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms draped around his neck where she was kissing and grazing her teeth in a gently threatening promise. They needed to get to the bed- now. They made their way to the bedroom door from her living room and he pushed it open, spinning into the room and laying her down on the bed. She didn't let him go and he chuckled into her shoulder. He nipped at it then moved his head to nip at her ear. She made a noise and rolled her hips against him. She was so responsive. It was almost a shame that this would be his last night with her. She really was sweet, and so naive to wear her earrings where he could- he sucked the lobe, rolling the earring with his tongue and making her sigh, arching her back and pressing her breasts into him.

He snaked a hand to the hem of her nightshirt and pushed it up above the curve of her breast, brushing his thumb over her peaking nipple. She tried to swallow the delightful noise she wanted to make. “Don't do that, dear. You know I like to hear you. And your smile is so beautiful,” He kissed her again then slid down and took the bud into his mouth and re-enacted there what he'd done with her earring. She keened and arched into his mouth. The smell of her arousal was beginning to be apparent. He managed to disentangle her legs from around him as he sat up on his knees, laying delicate kisses on each of her knees on either side of him.

Marinette propped herself up on her elbows. She watched him part her legs wider and slowly, agonizingly slowly, move his hands down the insides of her thighs. She dropped her head back and breathed deeply. “Tonight,” he said, stopping his fingers just shy of the gusset of her panties, “I want you to look at me. Tonight,” he brushed his thumb up the center of her panties where it was already becoming damp, she panted lightly, “if you want to help me, I want your smiles. I _need_ them-” he swiped slowly and more firmly as he growled his need- “All of them. If you stop, so do I. Do you understand?” She nodded and his thumb stilled. She exhaled and smiled softly. And he leaned forward to kiss her, pressing his thumb on to her clit. She squeaked into his lips. “Thank you.”

He would draw out her pleasure, a parting gift, even if she didn't realize that he would have his wife back soon and they would likely never see each other again like this. He knew he was greedy to want to see Anique's smile from Marinette as he stared into her eyes while he pushed the crotch of her panties to the side, dipping the tips of his fingers into her wetness and exploring the folds of her labia with the slickness. He couldn't bring himself to care. She was tantalizingly lovely. She shuddered and closed her eyes when he pressed two fingers at the vestibule, teasing her entrance, before he withdrew them. He was smirking when she opened her eyes and she smiled, albeit annoyed. He leaned forward again and braced himself over her with his other arm and kissed her annoyed smile, resuming his digit's explorations and frotting her slit with his fingers.

Hawkmoth relished in her struggle to maintain a smile, kissing the corners of her mouth and along her jaw as she succeeded. Her heart beat became more rapid and he could feel her breathing become more shallow. His fingers only brushed her clit enough to frustrate and his occasionally teasing her vestibule with the gentle pressing of his fingertips curling in on the downward stroke wrought such delightful whimpers. But every time she neared an approaching climax, he would slow his ministrations, move the focus or withdraw entirely. Her panties were drenched. Her arousal dripping down and dampening a small spot on the bedspread beneath her. Marinette's legs were beginning to quiver with the prolonged denial and increased sensitivity. Her eyes shown with moisture, yet she would not beg (her endurance had increased a good deal since their first time together), but it was getting more difficult for her to keep smiling when her need was so great.

His own reactions to her were becoming increasingly uncomfortable to confine, but after tonight, he was going to have Anique back. He could wait. He could wait to gaze on the real thing, to have Anique smile at him, before he had his release. Marinette wanted to fix him and this would. He would have everything he needed by the end of the week and this was first: to whet his palette again with Marinette's smile, which was beautiful on its own and so resembled hers, and to get the miraculous that could bring her back to him.

He took his hand from between her folds and placed his fingers in his mouth, sucking them clean. It was the nectar of his labor and it was sweet like the sweat on her brow and the quivering of her lower lip and slight shaking of her thighs and the ragged breaths she continued to take. He closed his eyes and hummed in approval, savoring. His hand caressed her thigh as it made its way to her mound. He cupped it and gave her outer labia a gentle squeeze.

“You've done so well,” he kissed her softly. “You've smiled so prettily even when I teased you. I think it's time for your reward.” He kissed her cheek, hot and flushed with arousal. “Would you like that?” Her gaze flickered down to the straining evidence of his own desire with hunger burning in her eyes. She swallowed the saliva pooling in her mouth. “I'm afraid that's not on the table tonight, but I happen to know that you have a new toy in your bedside table.” Marinette's pupils somehow managed to dilate further.

“P-please, Sir,” she forced out hoarsely. The hormones and chemicals flooding her senses made it difficult for her elucidate further than her most base responses. She wouldn't last long once he'd begun the end.

He sat back on his knees and tapped her bottom. “On your hands and knees, facing the mirror over there. Panties stay on. Shirt off,” he commanded as he got off the bed to retrieve the implements of pleasure.

“Yes, Sir,” she breathed, her lips lifting in a little smile, and she did as she was told. He quickly found what he was looking for. It was a purple, vibrating shaft which bulbed into a wide tear shape from the tapered tip with a large butterfly for clitoral stimulation. The corner of his mouth twitched in amusement. Oh, this would fill her and finish her nicely. He turned around to see her in position on the bed.

A low groan escaped him. If he'd wanted her before, he was grateful he'd saved this for the end because his control would not have lasted if he'd seen her like this earlier. Her breasts hanging with erect nipples between her arms, ready to sway with any motion. The bow of her back and rise of her backside. The damp from his earlier ministrations spread from her cunt up the back of her panties. She was watching him in the mirror across from the bed and playfully waggled her backside, sending her breasts jiggling. He narrowed his gaze.

He returned to the bed and sat behind her. Maintaining her gaze in the mirror, he gave her a wicked grin and showed her the toy in the reflection before setting it down next to him on the bed. She let out a whine and shifted her bottom back toward him which he smacked just the outside of the fullest portion with his fingers, leaving a light sting. She inhaled sharply but smiled for him. He pulled the crotch of her panties to the side and slid two fingers into her, eliciting a long moan as he began to stroke in and out. She tried to lower her face to the bed to moan into the blanket and offer more access to her which he reprimanded with another sharp slap to her backside. “Don't move. You are going to take what I give you. I want to hear you.” Marinette whined as she complied. A sweet sound he was going to store away for future remembrance.

He pulled her panties down over her hips, half way down her thighs, before giving her his fingers again then a third, stretching her and making her mewl and whimper and pant. He glanced at the toy beside him and did some mental calculations. In, out, stretch, he moved his fingers inside her. He could feel the beginnings of fluttering muscles. He retracted his hand, wiping his fingers on her panties. This had to last just a little longer. He got on his knees and stroked his hands along her sides from hip to breast and placing feathery kisses along her spine, pressing his clothed erection against her bare behind. His hands gently squeezed her breasts and he rolled her nipples between thumbs and forefingers. She cried out, “Ah-hah! S-sir!” Squeezing her eyes shut and nearly lurching forward and down to shove her hips back into him. “Please,” she whimpered. She was so close to crying.

“In a moment, petit chou. You're doing so well. Just a bit more,” he reassured, nuzzling the crook of her neck and lightly massaging her breasts, teasing the sensitive buds, and slowly rutting his own length along the part of her backside.

“Please, ah, Sir, hng, I need, ah-” she pleaded, breathing quickly and shallowly. Fuck, she was even more tempting when she was begging.

He was starting to lose his own control, but that wouldn't do. He needed to be present for her. “Do you need to pause, mon chou? Breathe,” he demonstrated a deep breath in and out, moving her bangs out of her face. “Tell me what you need, dear,” he prompted her gently.

“Hnnng,” she closed her eyes again and breathed like he'd done, calming enough. “I need y-you, Sir. Please. Please? I need to come, Sir.” He had to take some steadying breaths of his own.

“Since you asked so nicely.”

He moved back to his position behind her, running his hand along her all the way. She was so wet, she probably wouldn't need so much warm up to accommodate the toy. He fingered her gently just to be sure before he picked up the purple butterfly vibrator. He grabbed the lube on the bedside table and generously coated it. With one hand, he parted her pretty lips. With the others, he wielded the instrument. He rubbed the curve of it over her slit and allowed the tip to brush her clit, sending a shiver through her and a high pitched whine into the air. He could see the muscles clench over nothing. So desperate.

The tapered tip nudged against her entrance, pressing gently. Hawkmoth pushed between the young woman's shoulders so that she would lower her head to the bed, sure to turn her face to the side. He nudged her knees a little further apart and he slowly moved the tip in and out, gradually pushing more of the flaring bulbous end of the shaft in with every insertion. She was panting and moaning at his torturous pace, whimpering and pleading. He murmured quiet praise until the butterfly stimulator could reach her clit with little movement. “You don't come until I say so.”

She sobbed a little, “Yes, Sir.” He knew he wouldn't let her suffer much longer, but she would probably come now with the toy only resting inside her if he told her to.

“Good girl,” he purred, and he pressed the button on its side, bringing it to life and causing her to let out a low, guttural groan that filled the room. He braced a hand on her hip while the other made steady, little back and forth with the toy. He made sure the butterfly was at least teasing her swollen clit. Those sounds she made- It had only been a moment before he had the prescience to know she wouldn't last longer no matter how much she wanted to obey. He commanded, “Come for me, mon petite.”

It was an instant before she was shouting her orgasm, hoarse groans and whimpering moans and choking sobs. Her walls clenching tightly even as he coaxed her through the waves and shuddering pleasure and release with the small, regular rocking of the bulbous shaft with in her. As they subsided and she became uncomfortably oversensitive, he removed the toy and placed it on the table. She was still breathing heavily when he draped a light blanket over her and pulled her into his lap and into his arms, delicately removing her ruined panties. He gently brushed her hair back from her face with his fingers.

“Thank you, Marinette. You were so good; you took it so well,” he cooed and stroked her hair and caressed the shell of her ear. “You are such a help. I'll be unbroken in no time.” He fingered her earring and she turned her face into his chest, murmuring unintelligibly. His hand went back to stroking her hair. It wasn't long before her breathing was deep and even and she'd fallen asleep against him. Carefully, he disentangled from her, pulling the blankets back from the bed and arranging her beneath them with her head resting on her pillow.

He cleaned himself up in her bathroom and brought back a glass of water to leave next to the bed in case she woke up and decided she needed to rehydrate. Hawkmoth bent over her sleeping form and deftly removed the black studs from her ear lobes. “And thank you, too, little bug. I couldn't do this without you.”

* * *

 

Morning light streamed through the curtains on the window. Dust particles danced in the glow. Marinette yawned and turned over. The bed was empty as it had been every other time. She tried not to let disappointment settle in its familiar groove. “No one can fix another person,” he'd said. Well, he couldn't fix her either it seemed. Every time she hoped he'd stay. Hoped to help heal him. But there are some things that the Miraculous Cure can't cure. She reached up to check her earrings- like every other morning-after.

They were gone.

She let out a long sigh and sat up, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. He'd figured her out and now she had to call Chat to warn him (albeit without all of the details). Marinette got up and moved to her vanity and opened a drawer and its false bottom, pulling out the old, oriental box and placing it on the vanity desk. She opened it and put on the earrings therein. When her old friend made her appearance with her disapproving frowning, Marinette could only smile wanly.

“Tikki, it looks like we have a plot to foil.”

“Which one?” the red kwami snarked.

 


End file.
